Dichotomy
by Juliedoo
Summary: If you love it, conquer it. Akashi/femKuroko. Rakuzan.


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Niccolo Machiavelli once said _''He who wishes to be obeyed must know how to command.'' _A sensible, if rather obvious credo; Akashi Seijuro ascribed to it.

"Come here, Tetsumi," he coaxed softly, pleasantly. Like persuading a scared cat out from under a sofa.

He was speaking to an empty room. Wait, no, there was movement in the corner—she dog eared a page in her book, closed it, and slid off the windowsill, drifting over to his desk. Regal as a throne, cluttered with _shogi _tiles. He observed the pieces like a general before a war council, shrewd and decisive as she waited for him to speak.

"I was thinking that it would be nice to pay our former teammates a visit," he informed her with casual autocracy. "Would you like that?"

Blue eyes slid away from his invasive stare, looking at nothing. "If that's what Akashi-kun wants."

Her opinion didn't really matter.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"—there's Murasakibara, he's an idiot and he's tall as fuck. Pretty good center, so he'll give you problems. And then there's _those two_."

Aomine's face crumpled bitterly, something like regret souring his mouth. Kagami blinked at him, then glanced to Momoi in confusion; she was frowning, too. "Who?" he demanded, irritated that Aomine went and said something like that and then didn't bother to elaborate.

Momoi gnawed her lip nervously. "The former captain of the Generation of Miracles and the phantom sixth player," she told him hesitantly. "Akashi Seijuro-kun and Kuroko Tetsumi-chan."

"A chick?" Kagami scowled.

"Don't underestimate Tetsu," Aomine snorted. "She was first string for a reason. You've never come up against someone who plays her style of basketball. And Akashi...I heard that they're attending the same school. I don't think you can beat Akashi on you own, but if Tetsu's with him, you're screwed," he said bluntly.

Aomine was usually nothing but piss and vinegar, but he honestly looked worried. The sight of it made Kagami's gut cold, but he brushed it away.

"I beat you, didn't I?" Barely, but still.

Aomine eyed him narrowly. "Me? I'm just a monster. Akashi's like a God."

-o-o-o-o-o-

They were gathered together again, all crayons back in their box. Akashi had beckoned, and his loyal dogs had bounded over.

Kuroko stood behind him to the left, his shadow like a rug beneath her feet. She stared at Seirin's Kagami-san, who'd had the audacity to insert himself into the private conversation Akashi was conducting. He didn't know any better, but it was still a fascinatingly stupid thing to see. Like watching someone stick their fingers into the whirling blades of a blender.

His eyes widened with disbelief as the fresh scratch on his cheek oozed blood.

"Well, I'm leaving," Akashi announced, blithely handing back Midorima's scissors as if he hadn't just tried to stab a virtual stranger in the face. "I just wanted to say hello to everyone today. Come along, Tetsumi."

Kagami's whole body twitched as Kuroko moved to follow after Akashi's retreating back up the stairs, not having noticed her before.

Aomine shot to his feet. "Don't be ridiculous, Akashi," he fumed. "You summoned us just for that?"

"No," Akashi paused, peering back over his shoulder with his mismatched eyes. "I actually wanted to confirm something, but after seeing your faces I realized there was no need. No one has forgotten our promise. Everything's fine, then. The next time we meet will be on the court.

Kuroko flashed them a ghost of a smile. "It was nice seeing everyone again." Her attention shifted to Kagami. He was unnerved by the still, almost wooden expression on her pale face. "And please refrain from provoking Akashi-kun again, Kagami-san. It never ends well."

They left, and the air was even heavier than before after their departure.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Quite bluntly, it was a slaughter.

Seirin was strong, but Rakuzan had no equal. Two members of the Generation of Miracles, plus three Uncrowned Kings under the thumb of Akashi's impeccable leadership—it was a team built for victory, as a gun is constructed to kill. It had no other purpose.

When the buzzer wailed, Kagami was on his knees, breathless with exhaustion and futile aggression.

Akashi was already striding off the court. The outcome of the match had been guaranteed, and there was no use gloating over his win—like the sunrise, it was a natural, regular occurrence, never to be derailed. The day he lost, the sun would fall out of the sky.

Kuroko meandered after him, subdued and slick with sweat.

They'd won the Winter Cup; she would've rather been off somewhere, getting a vanilla milkshake. Milkshakes were always more satisfying than basketball, these days.

Perhaps sensing what she was thinking, Akashi handed her a towel. "We'll stop at that restaurant you like on the way home, Tetsumi. My treat."

She nodded, wiping her neck. "Can I get a large this time?"

"Of course."

A small triumph. She liked it better than their championship title.

.

* * *

This was weird, but it demanded to be written. Listened to ''And The World Was Gone'' by Snow Ghosts while typing this up. Hope you liked it. n_n


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